


nothing but memories

by damnspacebois (Race_Jackson23)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BAMF Keith (Voltron), Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Character Death, Domestic Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Future Fic, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith Calls Shiro Baby, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Pet Names, Shiro Calls Keith Baby, Sleepy Cuddles, emotionally though, implied - Freeform, older paladins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 09:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14767418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Race_Jackson23/pseuds/damnspacebois
Summary: “It’s ok, Shiro,” he says, and it isn’t, it really isn’t, but Shiro’s shaking all over now and the little twitches are shaking Keith where he’s cradled in his arms and it both hurts andhurtsin ways that are impossible to describe. “It’s ok, baby.”alternatively: keith is dying and all he can think about is shiro





	nothing but memories

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this Tumblr post](http://ironwintercrap.tumblr.com/post/174108572303/queenyavengers-caffeinewitchcraft).

Keith doesn’t expect the Galra to fire.

It hadn’t always been so. When they’d first started this adventure, all those years ago, both Galra and Sentry alike were intent on taking out the Paladins in any way possible, even if that way meant death. There were too many close encounters where they’d almost died to count on both hands. Back then, Keith expected them to fire without a second thought, and he’d have done the same too. Victory or death, after all. Victory, or death.

But after everything – after Lotor and his betrayal, after the Galra and the Paladins had fought together side by side only to find themselves enemies again, after those bonds of brotherhood had been formed only to be broken by a greedy emperor and his psychotic mother – Keith doesn’t expect the Galra to fire. He truly doesn’t. Blaster fire from once-friends was so far from the realm of possibility in his mind – even though he’d said differently in meetings with the Blade and Voltron Coalition – that when the soldiers he’s facing down with Pidge at his side turned their weapons on them, he freezes.

Everything slows. The dull hallway seems to grow bigger. Claws tense on blaster triggers. A _click–_

Keith’s brain reengages. A shout – _Shiro!_ – comes from behind him. Then blaster fire is raining down upon them, and it’s all Keith can do to avoid it, let alone keep Pidge safe. He shoves her into the nearest doorway. Someone curses loudly. Shots fly past his ear – Lance or Hunk returning fire, maybe? – and he has to twist uncomfortably to avoid them, and then he’s off.

Blade lengthening from knife to sword, Keith throws himself into the fray with a yell. Surprise and fear ripples through his enemies, a welcome sight that only deepens the claws of anger in his chest, and they scramble back to avoid him. It is too late. Not expecting a close quarters attack, they go down quickly, barely a match to the man that has trained as Blade and Paladin both.

And then it’s over. His blade shifts. He takes a step back, breathing deeply to calm the buzzing in his head. Chest burning from exertion, he uses the back of his sword hand to wipe the sweat off his brow before replacing it back on his belt and turning to check on his friends.

“Is everyone alright?” he calls.

They gape at him and he doesn’t know where to look, who to check. Hunk looks fine, shaken in a way only Hunk can be, and he holds Lance up, careful of the odd angle of the Blue Paladin’s leg. There are no other wounds, though, and since the healing pods are good with broken bones Keith knows Lance will be his annoying self in no time. And Pidge– Pidge’s hands are coated in _red_ , bright against the white and green of her vambraces, and for a moment his heart _stops_ , but there are no blaster marks on her armour and so that means– _oh god please no not him **not him**_ –

As if drawn by some cosmic source, his eyes find their leader. A frantic tick of _is he bleeding is he bleeding??_ before he relaxes. For all his hands shake and his face is dirty with the aftermath of battle, nothing about Shiro looks out of the ordinary, but that isn’t what sends Keith’s anxiety into fever pitch. Shiro’s eyes are wide, shocked, like his world was falling apart, and that, more than anything, sets Keith off, because Shiro had never looked like that before, not even when they rescued him from the Galra, not when–

Something in his throat catches. Keith’s chest tightens. He coughs, taken aback when the sound is less a cough and more a gurgle and the fire in his chest burns that much worse, which is strange, he’s stopped fighting now, _shouldn’t that be_ –?

“Oh,” he says quietly because he’s finally realised what’s happened.

His hand finds the slippery red of his side.

~

_“You want a dog? You?”_

_If Keith didn’t know any better, Shiro’s incredulity might be offensive. And if it had been anyone else saying it, they would’ve gotten punched. As it was, Keith only narrowed his eyes, mock punching Shiro in the upper arm before folding his arms over his chest._

_“Is it so unbelievable that I want a dog after all this is over? I like dogs!” insisted Keith, drawing further away so as to mock-glare better at Shiro._

_“I mean–” Shiro cleared his throat “–no? I just, didn’t expect it.”_

_Keith merely raised his eyebrows, then gave in, snuggling down into Shiro’s bed. Shiro hummed appreciatively._

_It was Day Three of Doing Nothing. They’d had some downtime during negotiations with the Voltron Coalition, Allura insisting that she and Coran could handle it and that the Paladins needed rest. Though he felt bad doing nothing for days on end, he would hardly complain about the chance to just spend time with Shiro, uninterrupted in a way they hadn’t been since the Garrison._

_And it had been fun. They’d talked and laughed and fucked their way through three days, only stopping for food and sleep. In an exciting twist, no one came to check on them the entire time nor was there any emergency requiring Voltron. It was_ heaven _. Spending so much time around the one person_ should _have drained Keith, but he found that, with Shiro, he felt blissful and refreshed. He never wanted to leave the room._

_“Don’t you want a dog?” asked Keith. His eyes crinkled with a smile but his heart panged. “It’s not like I can get a dog without you wanting one too.”_

_Something in Shiro’s face tightened. He’d hit a spot. Insides churning uncomfortably, Keith went to tell him to forget about it, but Shiro beat him to the punch._

_“I don’t not want a dog, I’ve just …” Shiro seemed to struggle with his words, opening and closing his mouth several times before locking eyes with Keith. For someone lying down, Keith was pretty sure he’d just managed to square his shoulders. “I’ve never thought about … after.”_

_Keith’s heart snapped in two. He didn’t know what to say. He needn’t have worried, because Shiro nuzzled into the juncture of his neck and collarbones, sighing deeply._

_“But we can get a dog, if you’d like.”_

~

Keith’s insides are on fire. What he’d thought was exertion is shaping up to be something different, something worse, and the red at his side only strikes that home. One, two, three – _four_ blaster marks in the usually impenetrable material of his chest plate, and he wonders dimly, as he watches the horror grow on ~~his team’s~~ his family’s faces, whether that means the Galra have developed a new technology. He hopes not.

Legs giving out, he sinks to the ground. There’s no thud, just the scrape of armour on the metal floor and the sound of Keith’s breath turned brittle and rasping. For a moment, he can’t comprehend the blood on his hands – he knows what it means, knows that he’s been shot and, from the pain that ratchets up as the adrenaline leaves him, badly, but he still can’t connect the dots in his brain. But then his hands are being held by Pidge’s and he’s drawn into a wide chest from behind and he _knows_.

Dying. He’s dying.

“It’s ok, baby, it’s ok, just breathe,” Shiro murmurs in his hair. Pidge drops Keith’s hands to help adjust his legs, and together they manage to get Keith into a reclining position. He doesn’t have the heart to tell them it makes it hurt more. “Breathe.”

“Hunk and Lance have gone to get their lions, we’ll get you to the Castle in no time,” says Pidge, glancing anxiously down at Keith’s chest in a way none too reassuring.

“See, it’s ok,” rambles Shiro. “You’re going to be fine, baby, I promise.”

Through the pain, he finds himself rasping, a wry smile on his face, “What do I keep telling you about promises?”

Shiro stills.

~

_“Are we ever going to talk about it?”_

_Keith’s hand in Shiro’s hair went still. Then he sat up, sheets thrown astray as he stared Shiro down. The man in question joined him slowly, graceful like he is in all moments of his life, his face suspiciously blank but for the slight pinching at his mouth. Knowing what was coming, Keith was half-tempted to leave, but one look at Shiro’s face forces him in to remain in place._

_“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” he said honestly, shrugging with a levity he didn’t feel. “We have you back now, there’s no point dwelling on it.”_

_Shiro snorted. “Isn’t there? Because you’re mad at me, I can tell.”_

_“I’m not mad,” sighed Keith. He felt tired all of a sudden, the need to burrow down into the bedding almost too strong to resist. “I’m not. I’m just – look, don’t worry about it, it’s been a tough few months and we’re all stressed, and–”_

_“Bullshit,” Shiro cut him off. His gaze was unwavering. “_ Bullshit _, I know you, Keith, and I know when you’re mad and don’t want to say anything. Talk to me.”_

_Keith shook his head. Then–_

_“You promised me.”_

_Flinching, Shiro nodded. His hands clenched and unclenched, as if to reach out to Keith but thinking better of it at last moment. Eyes drawn to the movement, Keith couldn’t have helped but wish that Shiro would have reached out and held him, but another part of Keith was glad. He wasn’t sure if he’d say it if he found himself in Shiro’s arms._

_“You promised me,” he repeated, making sure he was holding Shiro’s attention then continuing on. “You promised that you wouldn’t leave again. And I know – I know, Shiro, that you didn’t want to leave but you did! And you promised me!”_

_“I would never leave you on purpose, Keith,” said Shiro, his voice low. But it was his eyes – dark and soulful and utterly beseeching – that wrapped grief around Keith’s heart. “I can promise you that much, I swear.”_

_Keith’s heart constricted. Because while he knew that Shiro believed that, knew that ~~his leader his lover~~ his _best friend _could never comprehend ever wanting to leave Keith behind, Keith was hardly a child. He knew it didn’t work like that._

_“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Shiro.”_

~

Shiro shakes his head. His hands, putting pressure on one of the wounds in Keith’s torso, shake. With his eyes bright and running, skin sickly pale in the splotches that aren’t stained red, he looks like he’s already begun mourning, stuck in that perpetual cycle of _denialdenialdenial_ that Keith’s become intimately familiar with. He’s never seen him like this, not even after getting him back from the Galra the second time (and _that_ was a particular hell on its own), so Keith’s not sure how to react except to cover Shiro’s hands with his own and pry them gently away.

“It’s ok, Shiro,” he says, and it isn’t, it really isn’t, but Shiro’s shaking all over now and the little twitches are shaking Keith where he’s cradled in his arms and it both hurts and _hurts_ in ways that are impossible to describe. “It’s ok, baby.”

Sobs wrack Shiro’s form. It jostles Keith again, and he’s careful to hold his gasp back, because if Shiro knew that he was hurting Keith he wouldn’t be able to cope. And besides, it … it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. An ebbing tide, the pain is fading away, still there but receding and leaving only numbness in its wake. Alarm bells go off distantly in his brain, reminders from his physiology classes at the Garrison floating in his mind’s eye, and he remembers how Tuva had murmured that she didn’t hurt anymore as sh–as she _died_ , but it’s like it’s far away, corroded by time and pain. All he knows is that it isn’t long yet.

That _terrifies_ him. He’s been fighting for so long; for Voltron, for the Blade, the universe ~~that apartment outside of Tokyo with the dog and two little girls who’d call him papa~~. To stop fighting? For all that he’d wished for it, the idea that it’s over, that he no longer has to struggle against the Galra, that he can _rest_ , is bittersweet. No, not bittersweet – it’s more painful than the blaster shots, because he’s _so close_ to it, to the end, and its _wrong_.

It wasn’t meant to end like this.

~

_They fell back into the sheets, panting and sore. Chest buzzing, it took Keith a moment to get his breath back, but he did, and then, like a pleased cat stretching out in front of the fire, he made himself at home. Shiro didn’t complain, just moved his arm to the side a little so that Keith could snuggle close and pressed a kiss to his sweaty hair._

_“Sap,” Keith groaned._

_Shiro just hummed in agreement._

_For a moment, they laid there together, soaking in each other’s presence. It was warm in Shiro’s arms, the sweat barely cooling, but body heat wasn’t all that made Keith all toasty. Though he knew no other, had nothing by which to compare, Shiro’s arms were_ home _. They were open to Keith always, instinctively reaching for him and holding him close without hesitation, and if that wasn’t what home was, he didn’t want one. There, laying in Shiro’s arms, listening to his heartbeat, he felt whole._

~

Pressed close, Keith could feel Shiro’s heart beating wildly under his hand. It only made him ache.

~

_“I’m going to marry you someday,” said Shiro._

_Keith started. He’d been reading through his advanced astrophysics textbook, chewing absentmindedly on the end of his pen as he tried every method he knew to kick his brain into gear. Reading the same paragraph over and over again without any of it sinking in was getting on his nerves, and frustrated tears were starting to creep into his eyes when Shiro just completely blindsided him._

_“What? Did you just – what?” he gaped, eyeing his boyfriend as he lounged on Keith’s bed._

_Shiro’s face was a picture of contentedness that Keith couldn’t help but envy as he replied, “You. Me. Husbands.” Keith would be lying if he said his brain hadn’t short-circuited at that. “One day, at least,” Shiro continued. “We’d look good in wedding pictures.”_

_“We look good regardless,” Keith shot back instinctively, and then what Shiro had said really sank in. “Husbands?”_

_“Yeah,” said Shiro, his face lighting up. “I mean, we’d get married after you graduate, of course, and after I come back from Kerberos. Maybe even after your first mission? Just so you can get your career on track first, and then eventually we’ll settle in Tokyo to be closer to my parents so they can be there for the kids–”_

_“Kids?”_

_“Yeah, of course,” laughed Shiro. “Three. Two girls and a boy. And a dog, of course.”_

_A lump pressed in his throat. Keith was utterly speechless, his brain racing as it tried to string together something to say. The truth, something whispered in his ear, and so he did._

_“I didn’t think you’d want that with … me.”_

_Shiro stilled, and then he was crawling over the bed and onto Keith, pinning him in place. Textbooks fell off the bed, but Keith paid them no mind, too focused on Shiro above him and the swoop of heat in his belly. He swallowed. Their eyes met. And then Shiro spoke._

_“Baby, you’re it for me. When you’re near, all I want to do is take you in my arms and never let go. You’re the last thing I think of when I fall asleep, the first thing I think of when I awake. You’ve taken my heart, Keith, there’s no room there for anyone else. You’re it.”_

~

“You’re … it, Takashi,” says Keith, his throat tight. It hurts to speak, but he needs to say it; needs Shiro to know. “My … person. I’m sorry, baby, so … sorry. I would’ve … married you in … a heartbeat, babe.”

Pidge is nattering on somewhere, something about bleeding and pods or something, and maybe she’s talking to the others and maybe it’s important, but it’s all fading away for Keith. The only thing he sees is Shiro. His teary doe eyes. His soft lips. The arch of faded red across his nose and cheeks. He’s saying something to Keith, years of ‘I love you’s and ‘baby’s letting him read the love on Shiro’s lips but there’s no sound, only white noise.

“Love you,” he says, because he does, and if he wants to do anything with his last breath, its telling Shiro he loves him.

~

_“God, Kei– Keith! God! I love you, love you so much, baby, oh my god, yes!”_

_Keith ignored the words Shiro muttered onto his skin until later, when the sweat was cooling on their bodies, when Shiro had nodded off against his chest, cradled in his arms. That was when it hit him, his face pinking as Shiro’s words registered._

I love you.

_No one had ever said that to Keith before. No one loved him liked that. No one had cared enough to, not until Shiro with his soft doe eyes and big heart of gold._

_As he watched Shiro snore onto his chest, his heart was full. He didn’t know what to say – not that he would say anything, unwilling to wake his sleeping lover – but he knew that, eventually, he’d have to say something._

_And_ I love you _?_

_Well, Keith just wanted to say that every day for the rest of his life. And as he drifted off to sleep, the man he loved cuddled close, he swore to himself that he would._

~

And he did.

He closes his eyes, and–

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. 
> 
> Leave me a comment or come chat on tumblr where I'm @damnspacebois.


End file.
